


Counterfeit

by harker, thedevilchicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Deception, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Extremely Dubious Consent, Imprisonment, Interrogation, M/M, Memory Issues, Mind Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harker/pseuds/harker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: Somehow, the worst part's not that not every part of him hated it.





	Counterfeit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [days4daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/gifts).



Somehow, the worst part's not that not every part of him hated it. 

When he got back to base after the escape, he gave his report in person, direct to General Organa. It was short and to the point - he'd been taken prisoner, he'd been interrogated, he'd given up the details of his mission - and he didn't tell her he was sorry for that last part because he knew she understood exactly what it meant when he said _he used the Force_. She nodded tersely and she turned away, not exactly her usual kind of dismissal but he couldn't say he blamed her for it; even if he hadn't used the words, he'd just told her that her son had tortured him. He figured she'd probably need almost as much time to process that fact as he would. 

Thing was, there wasn't a whole lot of time right then for processing. The next thing he knew, they were flying out to Takodana; the next thing after that, they were going after Starkiller Base. It wasn't till after all of that that he really got the time to think about it, in his bunk back on base, stretched out in the dark once the lights were turned out. Frankly, he wished he could've just kept going, kept moving, kept fighting; fact was, he didn't want to think about it. There are things in his past he knew even then he'd had to live with, but this wasn't one he felt like dwelling on. 

In the end, he couldn't help it. He closed his eyes, and there it was.

-

Logically, all the time he was there, Poe knew something was wrong. 

"Don't you trust me?" his captor said, as Poe stood there clamped hand and foot to the bench. 

He knew it was Kylo Ren, the jerk in the black mask with the engineered voice who probably thought he was the scariest thing Poe had ever seen and this was the scariest place he'd ever been. Maybe that crap worked on the usual kind of New Order prisoners, the scientists and the politicians, the low-level informants, the ones who weren't prepared for it, but not so much Poe: he's lost thrusters and spiralled down into planetary atmospheres while Beebee chirps like it's the end of days and he hasn't flinched at it, so right then Kylo Ren seemed like nothing. And okay, sure, so he wouldn't claim to be the toughest guy in the galaxy, he's probably not even the toughest guy in the Alliance, and he probably wasn't even the tenth toughest guy in the Jakku system right at that exact moment, but he knew it'd take a hell of a lot more than a mask and a voice modulator to scare him. 

"Go to hell," Poe replied, pissed off that his head hurt too damn much for him to come up with any kind of a witty retort. Ren had his hand there in front of Poe's face, hovering mid-air and not even touching him, but it felt like his fingers were clawing straight into his brain. 

"Don't you remember?" Ren said. 

"Remember _what_?"

Ren tilted his head. Ren turned his hand. Then he took a step back and Poe gasped in a breath at what he guessed would be a brief reprieve. Ren pulled down his hood and he took off his mask and he set it aside just there on the floor and when he brought his hand back up, when Ren looked at him again, the Force like needles jabbing right into Poe's brain, he understood. 

"Don't you remember?" Ren said. 

Poe remembered. 

-

It was night on Coruscant. 

Poe was someplace in the entertainment district, sitting on a high stool at the shiny bar in a club whose name he couldn't remember and hell if he knew why he was there except there was a drink in his hand and he knew there'd been more than a couple that had gone there before it. He was excited, he was pretty much on the edge of his seat, physically as well as metaphorically, and he knew he didn't normally do this; when he told the guy that, when he laughed out loud at the entire situation and he said, over the chatter and the music, "I swear it's not a line but I _never_ do this," the guy he was sitting there with just smiled this faint little smile like he didn't need persuading. 

He finished his drink, his eyes trained right on Poe, then he set down his empty glass on top of the bar. "Neither do I," he replied, and Poe believed him even if he couldn't've said why that was. Then he stood, so Poe stood, too. Twenty minutes of not totally idle small talk was all it had taken. He knew what their next move was and it was toward the door, together.

"Hey, what's your name?" Poe asked, as they left the bar. They hadn't discussed it, not in so many words, but he knew where they were heading. 

"Ren," the guy replied. 

"Like Kylo Ren?"

Ren raised his brows as he looked at Poe, sidelong, his face all lit up in brief flashes of the district's neon lights. They made his black clothes look almost colorful. They made his dark eyes shine bright.

"Do I look like Kylo Ren to you?" he asked.

"I guess you might if I turn my head and squint," Poe replied.

"So you've met him?"

"Kylo Ren?" Poe gave an expansive, half-drunk shrug, almost smacking a passerby across the jaw so he mouthed a quick _hey, sorry!_ and got a brief glare in retutn. "Nah. I've seen pictures, though. And you'd look pretty great in the mask." He gave an amused sort of snort as they kept on walking and he smacked himself theatrically in the forehead with one hand. "Not like I'm telling you to cover yourself up. I mean, you're an attractive guy. And I'm as socially adept as a freaking bantha right now, I don't know what's wrong with me." 

"Maybe you're nervous," Ren said, sounding serious about it, but the faint quirk to his lips said maybe he wasn't, then they stopped by the doorway of what he guessed was Ren's boarding house so Poe leaned against the frame of it and looked at him. Poe looked up at him, scratching the back of his neck. The height difference was a turn-on. In a second, all he could think about was wrapping his legs around Ren's waist. All he could think about was whether Ren would want that.

"Yeah, maybe I am," he replied, because he figured maybe he was. He really didn't do this, after all, picking up total strangers in bars, because frankly he knew better. He crossed his arms casually over his chest. "You gonna invite me in?"

Ren swept the door open in front of him without a word, which Poe guessed was as good an invitation as any. They went inside, past a surly-looking Sullustan sitting there at the front desk scowling over a datapad like he was personally affronted. The went down a long hallway, five floors up a spiral staircase at the end that made Poe's head feel woozy and then back down the other way, one turn then another, till he was pretty sure he couldn't've retraced his steps if he'd tried and maybe that should've seemed more ominous but there it was. Then there they were, at the last door in the last hall. Ren unlocked the door and let Poe in before him, then he locked it again behind them both. 

"What now?" Poe asked, as Ren flicked on the lights. They were bright, stark white, not like the neon lights outside, and Ren looked different in them without really looking different at all, without a single shadow or red-green-blue flare of light for him to hide in. He looked younger, but not exactly young. 

"You know what," Ren said, and he stepped forward and so instinctively Poe stepped back, back up against the door, somehow surprised to find it there as his heels and his shoulders touched it. He guessed he did know what came next. He knew why he was there, after all; he knew why he'd left the bar with him and it wasn't for a quick game of sabacc on the little bolted-down dining table. Hell, Ren didn't look like the kind of guy who played a whole lot of sabacc. So when Ren caught Poe's biceps in his hands and pressed him there harder against the door, both of them clearly knowing what they wanted, he didn't struggle even though he maybe should've done. He let Ren lean down and press his mouth to his. Ren kissed him. Poe kissed back. It wasn't gentle, but Poe didn't want it to be.

He got his hands into Ren's hair and he walked him back across the room after that, kept going till his calves hit the bed and it forced him to sit down. Poe stood between his parted thighs and tilted back Ren's head with one handful of his hair and Ren let him do it, let him stretch out his throat so Poe could press his mouth there, grazing smooth-shaved skin with his teeth and his own stubble. Ren's hands skimmed Poe's thighs on the way upwards to open the buckle of his belt and Poe paused. He pulled himself up just long enough to shuck his jacket as Ren did the same. 

Poe hopped foot to foot with a smile on his face as he pulled off his boots and socks; Ren sat there on the bed and took off his, looking faintly smug that he wasn't half a second from falling flat on his stupid ass the way that Poe pretty much was. Poe pulled his shirt off over his head, and Ren did the same. Poe pushed down his pants; Ren stood himself up and did the same. And damn, Poe was excited, he was _visibly_ excited, maybe kinda embarrassed at how fast he'd gotten hard, but Ren was standing there, one hand tucked at the small of his back and the other wrapped around his cock, looking at him like he could've eaten him alive. Mostly alive. Blue at most.

He watched him for a moment. For a _long_ moment. Then Poe went down on his knees on the floor right there in front of him, ran his hands over Ren's bare thighs as he looked up at him. He didn't do this kind of thing - strangers, guys whose names probably weren't even close to what they said they were - he never did, so what the hell was he doing there? He licked the tip of Ren's cock with the tip of his tongue, wondering when the last time was that he'd even thought about getting down on his knees. He sucked him into his mouth and Ren took a sharp breath, twisting his fingers into Poe's hair. 

"Stop," Ren said. And Poe couldn't say he wanted to stop but he did, sitting back on his heels, brows raised. 

"Something I did?" he asked. 

"Something else that I want," Ren replied. 

"Oh yeah?" Poe wiggled his brows what he hoped was comically. "What might that be?"

Ren smiled a faint but definite smile. "Why don't you lie down and find out?" he said, and Poe figured why the hell not. He pulled himself up and he stretched out on his back on top of the bed and he watched, propped up on his forearms, as Ren crawled up over him. Ren knelt between his thighs. Ren ran his hands over Poe's hips, over his abdomen, and palmed his cock. 

He remembers that Ren had him like that, Poe on his back and Ren still kneeling, once he'd slicked himself thickly with some kind of goop from a drawer by the bed and run his fingers down between Poe's cheeks. He remembers the blunt head of Ren's bare cock against his hole, the pressure as his hips tilted forward until the head of him opened Poe up enough to push inside. Poe took a sharp breath and Ren clenched his jaw and he bared his teeth and he inched forward, fraction by fraction, till he was in him as far as he could go. Ren rocked his hips against him. Poe laughed out a giddy breath, wrapping his legs around Ren's waist, cinching his ankles at the small of his back. 

And okay, it didn't last long. Poe was at least halfway to drunk and Ren looked so turned on it hurt despite his stoic façade, his hands tight at Poe's thighs, his hips snapping hard against him. Poe hung onto the bars in the headboard, yanking at them till they groaned with the strain as he tilted up his hips and damn, that tilt let Ren push in maybe a quarter-inch deeper, almost impossibly, and damn, _damn_ he couldn't even remember the last time he'd let someone fuck him, let alone like this. Poe fucking tingled from head to toe as Ren wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked, hard, almost too hard but then again that felt just right and Poe groaned as he came, thickly, all over Ren's abdomen and all over his own. Poe reached down to the slick base of Ren's cock and he rubbed there, right by the rim of his own hole, watching Ren's muscles go tight with it, watching his breath catch. When Ren came inside him maybe a couple minutes after, Poe could feel his cock pulse with it underneath his fingertips.

Poe remembers grinning up at him, lazily, maybe a fraction uncertainly. Poe remembers the flush in Ren's cheeks and how his hair stuck to his forehead, remembers the weight of Ren's hands on his thighs and the fact that his cock was still in him. 

"You had enough of me yet?" Poe asked, as Ren traced the outline of his hip bones with his thumbs. 

Ren smiled at him, sharp and tantalizing. He stroked the side of Poe's oversensitive cock with the back of his fingers.

"Not even close," he said. 

-

"Do you remember now?" Ren asked him. _Do you remember now?_ asked _Kylo_ Ren.

"Yeah," Poe replied. "I remember now." Because he did, even though the memory kind of made his vision tilt like vertigo. He remembered everything. Honestly, he still does. 

They say the Jedi can play tricks with your mind and you'll never even know it's happening, but Poe knows the Sith do things another way. When they get inside your head, you for damn sure know it; you just might not know what they did to you while they were there. Poe remembers messages he only knows he never sent because he's checked the logs. He remembers nights he only knows never happened because the records all say that he was somewhere else. He asks himself, _was I ever really on Coruscant?_ and the answer is sometimes that he doesn't know.

What he knows is the only time he's sure Ren touched him was on board the Finalizer. He knows he watched as Ren pulled off his gloves, slowly, finger by finger, his gaze flickering up to meet Poe's every now and then, before he finally dropped them on top of his discarded cloak. He knows that when Ren stepped closer, deliberately, he meant to flinch away. But Ren unbuckled Poe's belt and slipped his hand down under the waistband of his pants and there was a sharp objection right on the tip of his tongue that just didn't make it out. Ren's bare fingers wrapped around the length of him, soft then but as Ren leaned in closer, his other hand against the headrest, as he stroked slowly, Poe could feel himself begin to stiffen. Poe closed his eyes. He couldn't even start to make himself struggle.

"Look at me," Ren said, and so he did. He opened his eyes and he looked right at him, his cheeks flushed hot with something maybe part shame and part anger but something else besides that, too. Ren stroked him, in short jerks constrained by the front of Poe's pants but that didn't seem to matter because Poe responded, Poe felt his cock fill thick and hot and hard and he hated it, he _hated_ it, but he didn't, and he told himself that was fine 'cause it wasn't like he had a choice. He let his head loll back and Ren leaned closer still, still jerking him, his breath against Poe's neck making him shiver almost as much as the friction of his hand against him did. 

Then Ren stopped. Poe remembers how Ren stepped back to release the locks around his wrists and his ankles and Poe was sure he'd fight, or at least that he'd try to, his other injuries be damned, but he didn't. He stood there, shaky, bleeding, no idea what the hell was wrong with him, while Ren just watched him darkly, steadily. He meant to hit him, but he didn't do it. He meant to lash out but the things they'd done were right there in his head and he didn't do it. He grabbed him. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and the back of his neck and he dragged him down into a kiss and Ren let him, Ren _more than_ let him. Ren kissed him back, and it was just like they were back on Coruscant. Poe knew what was going to happen, because it was the same thing that had happened before.

They went down on their knees together. Ren leaned in, mouth to Poe's throat; his teeth scraped stubbled skin and Poe took a shaky breath, pulled away, turned. Ren pushed up against him, both of them still clothed, hips tight to the seat of Poe's straining pants, but that didn't last long; Poe pushed himself up and leaned back against Ren's chest as he unzipped his pants and pushed them over his hips and then Ren's hands were on him, on his bare thighs, his abdomen, dipping down between his legs to cup his balls while Poe's head rested back against Ren's shoulder. He didn't want it but he _wanted it_ , when Ren leaned over to his cloak and pulled out a vial, when Ren pushed down his own pants and slicked himself. Poe went down on his hands and knees, remembering Coruscant, the morning after, making out naked in the shower, laughing at his complete lack of poise when he tried to ride him back in the bedroom after. Ren had looked as quietly amused as he'd looked openly turned on. Of course, Poe had had no way of knowing he was _Kylo_ Ren.

Poe leaned down lower, arms to the deckplates and his face to his arms as Ren rubbed the length of his cock between Poe's cheeks. He teased him with the tip of it and Poe squeezed his eyes shut, almost spacesick except he'd never been spacesick a day in his life, and Ren rubbed a circle around the rim of Poe's hole with the pad of one thumb, with the tip of his cock, before he pushed against it. Poe didn't want it but he _did_ ; he spread his knees as wide as the pants around his thighs would allow and he pushed back, pushed against him till he was opening himself up on Ren's cock and it felt good, it felt _fantastic_. And that was before Ren even got his slick hand around Poe's cock and stroked.

Ren pushed the rest of the way into him in one short jerk and Poe groaned against the deckplate. Ren fucked him slowly, his hands at Poe's hips, the length and the girth and the friction of his cock in him just made him want it harder, deeper, _not at all_. Ren thumbed the head of Poe's cock and made the flex of his hips falter. Ren squeezed him, stroked him, made him grit his teeth with it till he was thrusting hard against his hand then back against the cock inside him and Ren fucked him harder, a faint slap of skin to skin till Poe couldn't stand it, couldn't hang on, couldn't keep himself back from coming all over the deckplate in thick white splotches, breathless and jittery. And he pushed back, he met Ren's thrusts, he fucked himself on Ren's cock, made himself shiver until Ren grasped his hips and jerked and groaned and came in him, pushed as deep as he could go. 

He would've liked to've pushed him away. He would've liked to've grabbed Ren's lightsaber and activated it right through the center of his chest where his heart should've been and maybe was, who knew. He'd've liked to've wrung his neck with his bare hands but Ren pulled out of him, slowly, pulled away and left Poe there on his knees leaking come in a long, thick drip right down to his balls and he didn't try to touch him at all. Poe pushed himself up off of his hands and he pulled up his pants and he tucked himself in and he grimaced, he rubbed his face with both hands, angry, confused, but somehow there wasn't even a second of panic as he was swept up off of his feet, invisibly. Ren floated him back to the bench. Ren fastened him back to it, by his wrists and by his ankles. And Ren kissed him, smearing Poe's blood across his own face as he did so. Poe knows he wouldn't have tried to stop him even if he'd been able to. He knows he hates that that's true.

But the worst part's not that not every part of him hated it. He wishes it was, but it's not.

"Don't you trust me?" Ren asked, his hand at Poe's throat and his mouth by Poe's ear, and he sounded almost hurt to think the answer might be no. And Poe remembered so many things, so many places and times, so many messages, cheap rooms in cheap boarding houses in all the shadiest parts of the shadiest towns, a fancy spaceport on Corellia, Ren's mouth and his cock and his skin and his hands and all the ways his voice made him shiver. Logically, intellectually, he knew something was wrong; logically, intellectually, he guessed none of it was real. Or maybe it was. He sure felt like it was. Sometimes, he still does; sometimes, he still can't tell.

Sometimes, he thinks about it, because sometimes he can't not. Sometimes, even when he's not sure what's real, he thinks about Ren's dark eyes colored bright by neon lights. Sometimes, at night, his pulse racing, his jaw clenched, he comes with a memory of Ren in his head. 

Sometimes he doesn't know what's real, but sometimes he thinks he doesn't care.

-

The worst part's not that not every part of him hated it.

"Don't you trust me, Poe?" Ren asked, leaning close. 

The worst part is, part of him did. And so he told him everything.


End file.
